i know why that guy spoke a house
built from blackness (a ruined place):
with two dogs fighting it out, within…
all still-illumed by a candle in the window,
from a space of already been seen.
when i say know: relate. truly, speculate…
 
with the tool of attracting the gaze of want
in another, a glistening beacon of craving
the sensuous curvature, reflecting desire
as the opening widens in surrender; darkens,
in the mayhemoment the inside’s flung open.
 
coupled to the centre of all reflection,
unconscious untapped foundation of thought
running along with fellow in-feeds:
tasting, sound, heat, breath,
 hunger, more than six bare
this circuit life, ever silent processes.
 
how precious are these small ball prisms
that find an alignment twixed light and direction:
silhouettes in the darkness, near the far full moon
and the brightest scorch of the valley uprising.
not nearly so, but great, is my fear for losing
such as the light that is granted to me…
many are ways that such could be lost.